The Once and Future Wizard
by Wavecrest
Summary: Harry awakens over 1000 years in the past. Hogwarts is still being built but even then Harry sees that Hogwarts is his real home. He never has to leave in summer. He loves someone. He belongs. Will Harry ever return to his time? Will he want to?
1. Chapter 1

**1.  
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The hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive. Cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green lay parched and yellowing; the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought. Deprived of their usual car-washing and lawn-mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of Privet Drive had retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows thrown wide in the hope of tempting in a nonexistent breeze. The only person left outdoors was a teenage boy who was lying flat on his back in a flowerbed outside number four.

He was a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short space of time. His jeans were torn and dirty, his T-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers. Harry Potter's appearance did not endear him to the neighbors, who were the sort of people who thought scruffiness ought to be punishable by law, but as he had hidden himself behind a large hydrangea bush this evening he was quite invisible to passers-by. In fact, the only way he would be spotted was if his Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia stuck their heads out of the living-room window and looked straight down into the flowerbed below.

On the whole, Harry thought he was to be congratulated on his idea of hiding here. He was not, perhaps, very comfortable lying on the hot, hard earth but, on the other hand, nobody was glaring at him, grinding their teeth so loudly that he could not hear the news, or shooting nasty questions at him, as had happened every time he had tried sitting down in the living room to watch television with his aunt and uncle.

Almost as though this thought had fluttered through the open window, Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle, suddenly spoke.

"Glad to see the boy's stopped trying to butt in. Where is he, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Aunt Petunia, unconcerned. "Not in the house."

Uncle Vernon grunted.

"Watching the news…" he said scathingly. "I'd like to know what he's really up to. As if a normal boy cares what's on the news - Dudley hasn't got a clue what's going on; doubt he knows who the Prime Minister is! Anyway, it's not as if there'd be anything about his lot on our news–"

"Vernon, shh!" said Aunt Petunia. "The window's open!"

"Oh - yes - sorry, dear."

The Dursleys fell silent. Harry listened to a jingle about Fruit 'n' Bran breakfast cereal while he watched Mrs. Figg, a batty cat-loving old lady from nearby Wisteria Walk, amble slowly past.

She was frowning and muttering to herself. Harry was very pleased he was concealed behind the bush, as Mrs. Figg had recently taken to asking him around for tea whenever she met him in the street. She had rounded the corner and vanished from view before Uncle Vernon's voice floated out of the window again.

"Dudders out for tea?"

"At the Polkisses'," said Aunt Petunia fondly. "He's got so many little friends, he's so popular."

Harry suppressed a snort with difficulty. The Dursleys really were astonishingly stupid about their son, Dudley. They had swallowed all his dim-witted lies about having tea with a different member of his gang every night of the summer holidays. Harry knew perfectly well that Dudley had not been to tea anywhere; he and his gang spent every evening vandalizing the play park, smoking on street corners and throwing stones at passing cars and children. Harry had seen them at it during his evening walks around Little Whinging; he had spent most of the holidays wandering the streets, scavenging newspapers from bins along the way.

The opening notes of the music that heralded the seven o'clock news reached Harry's ears and his stomach turned over. Perhaps tonight - after a month of waiting - would be the night.

"Record numbers of stranded holiday makers fill air ports as the Spanish baggage-handlers' strike reaches its second week –"

"Give 'em a lifelong siesta, I would," snarled Uncle Vernon over the end of the newsreader's sentence, but no matter: outside in the flowerbed, Harry's stomach seemed to unclench. If anything had happened, it would surely have been the first item on the news; death and destruction were more important than stranded holidaymakers.

He let out a long, slow breath and stared up at the brilliant blue sky. Every day this summer had been the same: the tension, the expectation, the temporary relief, and then mounting tension again… and always, growing more insistent all the time, the question of why nothing had happened yet.

He kept listening, just in case there was some small clue, not recognized for what it really was by the Muggles - an unexplained disappearance, perhaps, or some strange accident… but the baggage-handlers' strike was followed by news about the drought in the Southeast ("I hope he's listening next door!" bellowed Uncle Vernon. "Him with his sprinklers on at three in the morning!"), then a helicopter that had almost crashed in a field in Surrey, then a famous actress's divorce from her famous husband ("As if we're interested in their sordid affairs," sniffed Aunt Petunia, who had followed the case obsessively in every magazine she could lay her bony hands on).

Harry closed his eyes against the now blazing evening sky as the newsreader said, "-and finally, Bungy the budgie has found a novel way of keeping cool this summer. Bungy, who lives at the Five Feathers in Barnsley, has learned to water ski! Mary Dorkins went to find out more."

Harry opened his eyes. If they had reached water-skiing budgerigars, there would be nothing else worth hearing. He rolled cautiously on to his front and raised himself on to his knees and elbows, preparing to crawl out from under the window.

He had moved about two inches when several things happened in very quick succession.

A loud, echoing crack broke the sleepy silence like a gunshot; a cat streaked out from under a parked car and flew out of sight; a shriek, a bellowed oath and the sound of breaking china came from the Dursleys' living room, and as though this was the signal Harry had been waiting for he jumped to his feet, at the same time pulling from the waistband of his jeans a thin wooden wand as if he were unsheathing a sword - but before he could draw himself up to full height, the top of his head collided with the Dursleys' open window. The resultant crash made Aunt Petunia scream even louder.

Harry felt as though his head had been split in two. Eyes streaming, he swayed, trying to focus on the street to spot the source of the noise, but he had barely staggered upright when he collapsed again, feeling sick. The world seemed to be spinning around him, as if he were using a portkey, and though he tried desperately to stay upright, to be ready and fight, he couldn't do it. He tried to force his eyes open, but there was a burst of complete and utter pain that felt like something had just jabbed him in the eyes. He couldn't see anything but the darkness and felt nothing but pain.

Until finally, he lost conscious.

How much time passed, Harry didn't know, but the next thing he knew was the feeling of a damp cloth dabbing at his head, almost tenderly, a touch unlike any Harry had felt in his life. Warm and caring, and an odd, pleasant aroma seemed to be in the cloth.

He groaned softly and tried to stir and a female voice spoke, but Harry didn't understand it. He tried to open his eyes, but he had a headache that throbbed very painfully and the complete and utter pain from his eyes seemed to intensify when he had tried to open them.

Okay, so opening his eyes was not good right now.

The gentle dabbing continued and another voice, a man's voice, spoke.

Harry decided he had to be messed up more than he thought if he couldn't understand people. He swallowed hard and someone perhaps realized his mouth was dry since a cup was placed to his lips and someone helped him sit up. Harry drank thirstily, grateful for the cool water, and raised his hand, to touch his face.

He felt what felt like a blindfold over his eyes and just touching them made his head ache even worse. He groaned at the pain and stopped touching it.

The woman spoke again, but Harry didn't understand. He shook his head and felt around for the water once more. Perhaps they knew what he wanted, because he felt the cup pressed into his hand. It felt like the goblets they used at Hogwarts and his heart jumped at the thought of the school. He could write to someone, get help.

The man's voice from earlier spoke but Harry still could not understand him. What was wrong with his head?

_Wait_. He had felt like a portkey had been activated. Perhaps he was somewhere else? But that led him to so many more questions...

"English," Harry rasped. "Do you speak English?"

Completely and utter silence.

Harry supposed the answer to that was a no and he just sighed. So he probably wasn't even in England. Well, the only wizard that probably would try to kill Harry was in England, so at least it hadn't been an attack from Voldemort.

Another goblet was gently pressed into his hands and Harry, after guessing that the people hadn't worked so hard just to kill him now that he was awake, drank from it. It tasted very much like the dreamless sleep potion, but not identical.

So he was in the magical world. That was good to know. He yawned a few times, feeling a bit sleepy now, and put the goblet back in someone's hands before going back to sleep.

How long he slept, Harry wasn't really sure, but when he woke up, habit had him reaching for his glasses and instead, he touched a rather cold, scaly object.

"Huh?" Harry jumped, since the object moved, and he tried to see, but the pain came back and he hissed in pain. He grabbed at his eyes with his hands and paused, feeling the cloth over them. He moved his head around, as if he could see the room around him, but Harry couldn't.

He couldn't see.

He had never really thought about that; he had worn glasses and all was well. But this... this was just darkness. And he didn't like it. He went to take off the cloth and try to force his eyes open, but he shouted in pain as soon as he attempted it. It was as if his eyes were being stabbed when he moved them.

A voice he hadn't heard before, no two of them, were there, one pushing him down on the bed and another lightly rubbing something over his eyes that seemed to take the pain away a little bit. They said something, but Harry didn't understand them.

Where was he? Where were his friends and Sirius?

Oh no. Hedwig! Who was taking care of her if Harry was here? Wait, though, Hedwig was a smart owl, right? Perhaps she would be able to lead his friends to him, if whoever had taken Harry hadn't thought about her. He hoped his owl was all right.

"Does anyone here speak English?" Harry tried once again.

Silence before the woman-not the same one that had dabbed his head-spoke, but it wasn't a language that Harry knew.

They must have deduced that fact, because someone gently placed a hand on his shoulder and said something. Harry didn't know what they said, but the tone seemed to be a comforting one and he sighed. He could hear them leave the room, talking, and Harry felt his wand next to him. Well at least _something_ was familiar here...

"Melusine, please watch over him again," the man said to someone.

Harry whirled. Someone had just spoken English! "Wait!" He shouted.

Silence and the man spoke once more, slowly, as if disbelieving. "You... you understand me?"

"Yes!" Harry practically shouted this in his relief, and he just wanted to laugh. "Why didn't you just say you spoke English?"

"... I... don't think..." The man said something to the woman that Harry didn't understand and said simply, "I... _you're_ the one that's not speaking English."

"We're speaking it right now!" Harry retorted.

"Er... No we aren't."

Harry was about to protest, but his head still ached and now he had someone denying that they were speaking English but he understood the other man...

Oh. He realized what was happening now. "You're a Parselmouth." Harry waited a few seconds, waiting for confirmation. "Is that right?"

"I apologize," the man said, as if startled.

And Harry knew; he gave a weak grin, "You were nodding."

"I was. I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me."

The woman with the man said something and he heaved a sigh, "She's right, we are being rude. I'm Salazar and this is Helga."

The woman said something.

"She said she's pleased to meet you."

Harry scoffed and shook his head, "You guys aren't being funny."

"... Funny?"

"Come on, what are your real names?"

"We just told you..."

"Oh really. Salazar, and is your last name Slytherin?"

"... Have we met before?"

Harry thought for a second. Hadn't he, the first time he had woken up, heard two other people? Another man and woman?

_No. Oh dear God no..._

Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor... Four of the greatest witches and wizards of the age created Hogwarts...

"Sir? Are you all right?"

"I'm at Hogwarts?" Harry whispered, his brain feeling as if it were made of slush that his thoughts were wading through.

"Well... it... we were... are you a Seer? We just came up with the name today..."

Harry's poor brain couldn't take much more of this and he knew that he was going to faint. He heard two concerned voices shout out and felt someone grab him as he did so.


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream," he told himself firmly. "I dreamed that I hurt my eyes, that I spoke to Salazar Slytherin and that I was at Hogwarts. When I open my eyes I'll be at Privet Drive."

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door, Harry thought, sighing in relief. But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a freaky dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up."

He sat up and screamed when he tried to open his eyes. No, the pain was very real indeed and he could hear a door open and footsteps running towards him. A woman's voice spoke, but Harry really didn't know what she was saying, but he was fumbling a bit, trying to find a way, something, anything, to stop the stabbing pain in his head. Harry also felt nauseated and a bit light-headed.

More footsteps and finally, Salazar's voice, "Sir, calm down! We can't help if you keep thrashing!"

Oh. That was a good point. Harry tried to calm down, but said, "My eyes... every time I try to open them, they hurt and I can't see."

His stomach gave a roar.

"... And I think you may be hungry as well." Salazar sighed and said something to the woman, who spoke back to him. "This is Rowena Ravenclaw."

Harry wanted to cry. How had he ended up almost a millennium in the past! He had just been listening to the news and had heard something and then the next thing he had known...

"Sir?"

"Huh?" Harry realized Salazar had been talking to him. "I'm sorry."

An exasperated sigh, "Rowena thinks it would be wise to inform you what happened. Your eyes, and all around them, were coated in glass. We removed the shards but the injuries are still deep and sometimes still bleed. The bandage around your eyes prevent the blood from going anywhere."

Harry wasn't sure how to react to this news. Finally, he said slowly, "Are... are you telling me that I'm... that I'm _blind?_"

Silence for a bit as Salazar spoke to the other person; Harry was guessing that it was Rowena. Finally, quietly, he answered, "... Yes. That's what she's saying. The injuries will take time to leave completely but at this point..."

Harry groaned, feeling like he wanted to cry. He could hear Rowena saying something, but he didn't understand of course, but now Salazar's voice sounded irritated and he snapped at Harry, "So you're going to mope and whine instead of thanking her for saving your life, is that it sir?"

"She... she saved my life?" Harry felt ashamed of his reaction now.

"With that much blood loss, be relieved you have anything," Salazar said, obviously irked at Harry's lack of gratitude.

"I didn't mean... I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling ashamed. "I didn't know. Thank you, for saving my life."

Salazar must have repeated this because Rowena said something back. "She said it was the least she could do for a fellow wizard." The man sighed, his voice tired, "Do you have a family or anyone we can contact? I'm sure they must be worried, you have been with us for a few days now."

The question made Harry feel even worse. A few days? And nobody at all had come for him? His friends could have gotten hold of a time-turner, Harry was sure. They were together, after all...

Harry felt a dull, sinking sensation in his stomach and before he knew it the feeling of hopelessness that had plagued him all summer rolled over him once again.

His best friends Ron and Hermione, hadn't even kept him up-to-date with news. He could recall their letters even now, his hopes of news having been dashed repeatedly.

_We can't say much about you-know-what, obviously… We've been told not to say anything important in case our letters go astray… We're quite busy but I can't give you details here… There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you…_

But when were they going to see him? Nobody seemed too bothered with a precise date.

Hermione had scribbled _I expect we'll be seeing you quite soon_ inside his birthday card, but how soon was soon? As far as Harry could tell from the vague hints in their letters, Hermione and Ron were in the same place, presumably at Ron's parents' house. He could hardly bear to think of the pair of them having fun at The Burrow when he was stuck in Privet Drive. In fact, he was so angry with them he had thrown away, unopened, the two boxes of Honeydukes chocolates they'd sent him for his birthday. He'd regretted it later, after the wilted salad Aunt Petunia had provided for dinner that night.

So perhaps his friends couldn't help... but what about his godfather? Sirius, at least, seemed to understand how Harry was feeling. Admittedly, his letters were just as empty of proper news as Ron and Hermione's, but at least they contained words of caution and consolation instead of tantalising hints:

_I know this must be frustrating for you… Keep your nose clean and everything will be OK… Be careful and don't do anything rash…_

Well, thought Harry, as he listened to Rowena and Salazar speak in a language he did not know, he had (by and large) done as Sirius advised. He had at least resisted the temptation to tie his trunk to his broomstick and set off for The Burrow by himself. In fact, Harry thought his behaviour had been very good considering how frustrated and angry he felt at being stuck in Privet Drive so long, reduced to hiding in flowerbeds in the hope of hearing something that might point to what Lord Voldemort was doing. Nevertheless, it was quite galling to be told not to be rash by a man who had served twelve years in the wizard prison, Azkaban, escaped, attempted to commit the murder he had been convicted for in the first place, then gone on the run with a stolen Hippogriff.

Would Sirius blame him somehow for this situation? He didn't know. He knew that remembering the temptation of setting off on his broomstick made him think of flying. It made him think about Hedwig and Quidditch, and Harry felt a pang in his heart.

He wouldn't be able to play Quidditch again. He couldn't see. How then could he find the Golden Snitch?

"Sir?" Salazar's voice was soft and Harry felt him place a hand on his shoulder.

"My..." Harry shook his head, despair welling up in him. How could they leave him like this? He knew time travel was possible. How could his friends and Sirius just leave him back here? Harry forced himself to stay calm and he answered, "No. I don't have anyone that you could contact."

Salazar must have repeated his words because Rowena said something.

"No one? No fiance or living relatives?"

"Fiance?" Harry laughed. He was only fifteen! "No, and my family..." His stomach churned at the thought of the Dursleys learning what had happened to him. "They don't care about me."

Silence for a few seconds and Harry thought. On the bright side, he hadn't had a restless, disturbed night since he had been back here. So far over the summer, even when he escaped the nightmares about Cedric he had had unsettling dreams about long dark corridors, all finishing in dead ends and locked doors, which he had supposed had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake. Often the old scar on his forehead had prickled uncomfortably, but he did not fool himself that anyone would find that very interesting any more. In the past, his scar hurting had warned that Voldemort was getting stronger again, but now that Voldemort was back they would probably remind him that its regular irritation was only to be expected… nothing to worry about… old news…

The injustice of it all welled up inside him even now, despite his current situation. If it hadn't been for him, nobody would even have known Voldemort was back! And his reward had been to be stuck in Little Whinging for four solid weeks, completely cut off from the magical world, reduced to squatting among dying begonias so that he could hear about water-skiing budgerigars! How could Dumbledore have forgotten him so easily? Why had Ron and Hermione got together without inviting him along, too? How much longer had he supposed to have endured Sirius telling him to sit tight and be a good boy; or have resisted the temptation to write to the stupid Daily Prophet and point out that Voldemort had returned? These furious thoughts whirled around in Harry's head, and his insides writhed with anger even now, until a hand intertwined with his own, bringing him out of his thoughts. A female voice, Rowena's voice, Harry recognized by now, spoke softly.

Salazar translated, sounding annoyed and sad, "She keeps apologizing. She knows you're angry."

Harry felt foolish. How were these people, the Founders of Hogwarts, supposed to know why he was so upset? He wasn't upset at them, after all.

No... he was upset at something that hadn't even happened yet... upset at people that weren't even thought of... with the ancestor of the man who had killed his parents.

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about this. He sighed and relaxed into the hand that was gently running through his hair. A gentle hand, one that was holding a damp cloth, dabbed at his head, almost tenderly. He recognized this touch, warm and caring, and an odd, pleasant aroma seemed to be in the cloth. It was the same person that had been tending him when he woke up.

"She was the one that helped me, when I first woke up?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Salazar confirmed.

It felt nice, having someone that wasn't bustling like Madam Pomfrey or overbearing like Mrs. Weasley tending to him. Harry wished that he wasn't so weak right now, that he didn't need help.

She said something and Harry sighed. Why didn't he understand them?

A bit of thought answered that. Of course. Old English. He remembered now-it was practically a different language, that was what everyone said, right? The English he knew wouldn't exist for a while, because it was really a mix of different languages. But then why was he able to understand Salazar? Well, technically snakes didn't even have ears to understand when they spoke back, so Harry had to suppose it was part of the magic that granted them the ability.

"Does it help the pain?" Salazar asked, as Rowena continued to administer the potion.

"Yes," Harry said. "I can't thank her enough."

She said something back and Salazar chuckled, "You're welcome."

Harry heard a very faint popping sound. "What was that?" He asked, turning towards it. He could hear the other two turning to look.

"A house elf," Salazar answered. "It has your meal. It is a light one, we don't wish to strain you..."

"Thank you," Harry answered politely. He could feel someone placing his meal near him, could hear the light sloshing of broth.

"And... I don't mean to trouble you, but..." A nervous rustling and Harry could hear Salazar breathe before saying, "But perhaps we could get your name?"

Harry felt a bit guilty for that. He had just accused them and fainted, hadn't he? He knew that magic made a lot of things possible, but honestly, who _wouldn't_ be freaked out at this situation?

"My name is Harry."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Harry," Salazar said, shaking his hand. "We shall be in periodically. If you need us, Melusine shall be here with you. Just ask her to get us."

"Thank you, Melusine. I appreciate your company," Harry answered politely. "Thank you, Salazar, and tell everyone the same, please."

He spoke to Rowena and said, "I shall, Harry. Rest."

Harry nodded and ate. He had never realized how much effort it took to raise a spoon when so tired and out of it. And he was used to seeing, so he sloshed a fair bit of the broth onto himself. But it wasn't too hot and it was good. He had a suspicion some potions were in it, but he didn't really mind.

Yawning and putting the bowl and goblet to the side after feeling for a table, Harry laid back and thought. Someone would come for him, wouldn't they? There'd be something, there had to be.

Wouldn't there?

Deciding to not worry too much, especially with his injuries, Harry drifted back to sleep.

The next few days passed in a similar manner. Harry would talk to Salazar for a bit, learn that no one had come looking for him, his injuries seemed a little better, and so on.

A week later, Harry couldn't take any more laying in bed. He was used to doing things, always had been, even if it had been chores or classes. He was not one to sit back. He had done it for long enough now.

He sat forward and turned.

"What are you doing?" Melusine asked.

"I want to try walking," Harry answered. He felt for the bed post and, wobbling and unsure, placed his feet on the ground.

"Are you sure that is wise?" the snake asked.

Harry shrugged lightly, "Maybe... maybe if you're my eyes? I can walk around the room if you guide me. And if anything happens, you can get Salazar."

"I suppose you are right..." The snake said, sounding thoughtful. She moved and wrapped herself around Harry, resting her head on his shoulder. She was a large snake, easily wrapping around his waist and around his shoulders. She would direct him and soon, Harry had found his way around the room a few times.

A gentle knock on the door made them turn. The knock told him it was Rowena.

"Come in," he called.

Nothing.

"Oh... come in!" He imagined saying it to Melusine and soon the door opened. So Salazar and Rowena again. Harry could tell by their footsteps, by the light scent of rose water around Rowena and the smell of pine around Salazar. Godric tended to smell like the oil he used to polish his wand and ash, while Helga tended to smell more like a sweet flower that Harry couldn't place.

Harry tried to echo what he heard them always say when they entered the room, hoping it was proper.

Rowena immediately replied and Harry swore he heard her smiling."

Salazar clapped his hands, "Yes! That's the word for hello, Harry. Excellent! So you've decided to move along then?"

"I... I don't want to be a burden," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "The least I can do is learn the language and walk. And if I help, maybe..."

Rowena spoke, and Harry... Harry swore he heard a word she had said so often...

Cure.

He repeated it, "Cure?"

And he knew her response, knew it before Salazar translated.

"I shall find it."

"... Thank you." Harry wasn't sure which language he spoke it in, but he had heard it so often translated at this point that he knew it.

"You are welcome, Harry," Rowena said, making Harry very proud that he could understand her... and she could understand him.

"Well," Salazar spoke now. "Harry, you want to walk. I shall help you look presentable and you shall dine with us in the hall. Is that acceptable?"

Harry nodded. Rowena spoke, Harry wishing he knew more of the language, but he heard the door shut.

"She shall meet us at dinner. Come now, let us get you ready."

The bathing was easier than Harry thought it would be, the warm water feeling good around him. It was a relief to be clean again. The robes were loose on him, and Salazar shrunk them a bit. "Better. Shall we?"

"Please."

They didn't move too quickly-Harry was a bit paranoid and liked to keep his hand on a wall, and he had been in bed for a bit. But it was good to move despite how tired it made him, and Salazar seemed pleased that he wasn't content with being a sloth.

Finally, the rich scent of dinner reached Harry's nose, reminding him so much of the Hogwarts that he was used to that it hurt. The scent wasn't accompanied by the dull roar of students, or footsteps or crowds or his two friends with him... Harry half expected to hear Ron and Hermione.

He didn't, of course. His heart sank a little bit.

A hand touched his, Helga's hand, he could tell. "Harry!" She spoke more, but Harry didn't understand.

"She's very glad you joined us," Salazar supplied.

"My pleasure." Harry heard Salazar translate. Then, so they'd understand, he said again, "Thank you."

Godric laughed and clapped, saying something loudly. Salazar chuckled and said, clapping Harry on the shoulder, "He said excellent. You'll learn quickly."

Harry blushed a bit and was helped into a chair.

And right now, with people passing him food and talking around him, the rich scent and feel of Hogwarts all around, it reminded Harry so much of his time that it hurt.

His best friends, his godfather, people he cherished and admired... Heck, he was even famous, the Boy-Who-Lived! Harry normally hated his fame, but it did mean he couldn't just vanish without people noticing...

Could it?

Didn't anyone care that he was gone?

He didn't have much time to dwell on dark thoughts, not with Salazar translating and dragging him into the conversation, not with Godric trying to teach him 'the important things, like how to say potatoes!'

Harry wasn't home... but at least he wasn't with the Dursleys.

The fact that he'd rather be stuck over a millennium in the past, a time where he didn't even know the language properly, than with his family actually somehow managed to cheer him up. He didn't know why, but it did, and he ate with more enthusiasm.

When it was finished, Godric and Rowena began to play a game of chess, from what Harry could hear, Helga was reading, and Salazar asked, "Do you play chess?"

"... Badly..."

"Well then, you shall have to improve. Would you prefer to be white or black?"

Harry shrugged and soon they were playing wizard chess. He could hear the moves Salazar was saying but couldn't really keep them in mind for too long. Darn it. At least the man wasn't cheating (he hoped). Salazar won, of course, but Harry didn't mind.

He went back up to his chamber with help and soon dozed off.

Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, now that he could walk and the like and Salazar beginning to help him actively learn the language (Harry could sometimes understand some words, especially since Godric felt all food items were important to learn, Harry could at least ask for certain dishes within a week. It was sad, how proud he was of that accomplishment.) but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been in this time for two months. It seemed regardless of era, the castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

But even as Harry learned and slowly adjusted, as the days seemed to pass to the point where he was beginning to have to think hard to count the days, part of him couldn't help but wonder... should he even bother adjusting? Someone was bound to come for him, after all...

But knowing that he had no clue when it would be, Harry decided it would be best to just be himself, to do what felt right to him, and hope that things would work out.

And there was one question that nagged at him, despite everything, despite his worries and learning.

How had he gotten into this situation?

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the building. Having memories of a troll and his friends and missing them more than ever, Harry decided to voice that question to Salazar.

"Salazar? Do you have any idea how I got here?"

"I don't know," Salazar answered. "I thought you could have Apparated, but soon deduced that was not so. I was waiting until you felt a bit better before broaching the subject with the others. We shall do so at dinner."

Harry nodded.

True to his word, at dinner, Salazar did just that.

He still couldn't see, but Harry could very easily hear the three voices that shouted, "GODRIC!"

"YOU FOOL!" Salazar shouted. "YOU DOLT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?"

Harry wasn't sure if he should be proud of himself for understanding what Salazar was saying, since he wasn't speaking Parseltongue, or worried.

He decided to settle for proud. After all, insults didn't come up often in normal conversation, and in two months he had learned enough of the language to hold some conversations and follow most of them.

"How could you do that, Godric?" Rowena said, sighing. "Oh Harry..."

"What..." Harry trailed off, unsure about how to approach the situation.

"... Sorry?" Godric seemed to ask the word more than say it.

Helga just sighed, "We shall sort this out. Oh Godric..."

"I didn't know!"

Harry had a sinking feeling he wasn't going to like this...


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

Godric sighed and Harry was sure the man was looking at him before he began, "I was..." he said a word Harry didn't know.

"Experimenting," Salazar supplied.

"Thank you," Harry said to Salazar.

"You are welcome." The man paused. "Godric, continue."

"And... I... I composed a magical being... to practice dueling with..." Godric said it slowly, to make sure Harry could understand him.

"Okay..." Harry nodded. He didn't quite know what Godric meant by that.

"Someone worthy of dueling you?" Rowena's voice was incredulous. "Godric, surely you are not that foolish."

"Dueling?" Salazar sounded confused. "You told me you were working on soul magic, since Herpo from Greece had done so and you wanted to test the theories. I even loaned you some books from my family's library for your project. Where did the dueling aspect come in?"

"Er..."

"Don't 'er' at us," Rowena began.

"Calm down," Helga's voice was soft, but seemed to spread warmth into the room. "Godric, the books that... those books are all about dark magic. I thought you didn't agree with that?"

"Psh," Salazar muttered.

"Sal, stop it," Helga said sternly. "Not everyone likes to walk the path that you do. Godric?"

"Light and Dark, like we're children and can't-"

"Salazar!"

"It wasn't like that magic," Godric said, sighing. "I just... I wanted someone... I wanted... ugh. How to explain this..."

The sound of a chair being pushed back and pacing. Harry could hear the man's sword shifting lightly as he walked. "Magic isn't substantial. There are spells that come from our souls, our emotions, our blood-things we can't control."

"I don't like that look on your face Godric," Rowena said slowly. "You have the look that you were doing much more than just simple spells."

"I was looking at the nature of things, including... including souls, as you all know, and well, time."

"_TIME?_" Three voices echoed.

Harry was stunned. Godric wasn't even attempting to deny it. He was practically shouting that Harry was a time traveler.

So how was he going to get Harry home?

"Yes. I didn't want suspicions for why I was away so long. I thought that since time, like souls, is something that one knows is there... yet cannot see or touch or even really prove." A thoughtful hum and he continued, "Human nature, some argue, does not change. Yet people do change. It made me wonder if time does. Time exists but cannot be proven, much like souls, and yet... changes occur."

Silence for a few seconds.

"Oh fine, I'll say it. Herpo's books have proven that souls can indeed be changed. Not for the better in his case, but they can be. If souls can be changed, then why not time?"

"How did your brain go from duels to souls to time?" Salazar asked. Harry was glad because he had the same question.

A sigh from Godric, "I admit, I don't really know. It... it seemed logical at the time."

"And so you tried this experiment," Rowena said, sounding to Harry very much like someone about to give a lecture, "without any assistance, I might add, and... you... made a mistake."

"Well... can it count as a mistake if you have no idea what the effect is supposed to be?"

"_Godric!"_

"This is no time for jokes," Salazar said, sternly.

"Fine, fine," the man grumbled. "As I said, I was trying to go backwards. I think I placed the runes and energy in the wrong areas and... accidentally went _forward_. I realized that there was an error and fixed it, but..."

A sigh, "You fixed it and so Harry is here."

"So you can just do it and I can go home?" Harry asked hopefully.

"... Would that I could, lad," Godric said sounding sad. "But... that experiment doesn't work that way. I have no idea how _you_ were brought here. It wasn't supposed to bring anyone."

"But you wanted to duel someone," Helga said quietly. Harry could hear the others shifting to look at her. "Perhaps your desire fueled that aspect?"

"I suppose that's possible," Godric admitted. "But... the books I used.. the runes... all of it... er... well..."

"Godric..." Salazar said slowly, "What happened to the books? The book that _I_ lent you?"

"..." The man sighed and said, finally, "... Destroyed. The energy..."

Words that Harry was positive were most improper left Salazar's mouth. Rowena muttered something too.

"Salazar! Rowena! Both of you-"

"Those were heirlooms!" Salazar shouted, and Harry could hear a chair being upturned and shouts. For some reason, he had the idea that Salazar had just tackled Godric in a manner that would make any rugger proud.

"No, Sal don't-!"

"Get them away-"

"YOU HURT MY BOOKS! Centuries they lasted, passed down my family, and _you ruined them!"_

"I'm sorry!"

"SORRY!" Salazar roared, and Harry could only imagine his face. "You're _sorry!_" He shouted a spell.

A very familiar one.

"_Crucio!"_

"AHHHHHH!" Godric shouted. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I won't touch your books again!"

Nothing except him shouting more.

"Stop it!" Harry shouted, causing utter silence in the Great Hall. "_Stop hurting him!"_

He had been under that spell. For something like books... it was idiotic. "You'd torture your best friend over books? You're sick!" Harry shoved away from the table, trying to walk and almost crashing into Rowena. He wished he could see again. This was ridiculous.

"Harry-" Salazar tried, but Harry didn't want to hear it. He had been under the Cruciactus Curse before. People had been driven mad by it. Rowena placed a hand on his shoulder and helped Harry leave the Great Hall. They walked in silence for a bit.

"Are you all right?" Rowena asked.

"No," Harry answered truthfully. He couldn't understand it. Godric Gryffindor had brought him here by mistake while experimenting.

No wonder he wanted the students in his House to be brave. Harry hadn't thought of it before, but didn't research require that? To be willing to risk ridicule or unexpected results and move on accordingly? He had heard so many stories of Godric Gryffindor's dueling ability that his ventures into academics seemed forgotten. But looking back, Harry realized the evidence was there all this time and he hadn't seen. Hadn't Godric thought of the Sorting Hat and enchanted his sword?

And Rowena Ravenclaw... she was remembered for her intellect, but hadn't she tended to Harry? Why wasn't she remembered for her caring nature?

Harry didn't understand how history could have forgotten those facts. But that made him wonder...

If history had forgotten good things like that, was it possible that Salazar Slytherin... wasn't as bad? But that couldn't be true. Helga had even said not everyone was like him, that Godric was against the Dark Arts and Salazar had scoffed.

But at the same time, how could they be best friends?

A gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, "Salazar is concerned that Godric's actions might have caused us to be like Alexandria."

"... What..." Harry didn't know what a place in Egypt had to do with Hogwarts.

"The Royal Library of Alexandria, Harry," Rowena explained, sighing. "Before, it was the largest and most significant great library in the world. Now... it has been destroyed. Both Salazar and I wanted to ensure this would not happen again, and we wanted to create a library here at Hogwarts. Perhaps there are other books that will show what Godric has done to bring you here, but judging from Salazar's reaction..."

"I understand that he's upset," Harry said, a bit irked that they felt him so stupid. "They were relics. They can't be replaced. I get it. What I don't understand is how you can defend his actions. Godric is a living being and if Salazar had gone too far, he couldn't be replaced either. Don't you think Godric already feels bad enough that he brought someone here and hurt his best friend?"

Harry couldn't see Rowena's face, but from the thoughtful silence, from the tightening of her hand, he could tell that he had made her think. "I... did not think of it that way," she admitted after a few seconds. "You are very wise."

"You are too," Harry said, not wanting her to feel guilty.

She made a slight sound of disbelief.

"It's true," Harry said quietly. "You were wise enough to listen."

Another thoughtful silence and softly she murmured, "You are intelligent in ways I wish I could be, Harry. Will you be joining us for breakfast?"

"Yes. And... apologize to Salazar for my outburst, please? I'll do so myself as well when I see... well... when I'm around him."

Perhaps his comment made her feel bad, because she said fiercely, "We _will_ find a way to heal you, Harry. I promise you this."

"Let's focus on making sure Salazar doesn't kill Godric first," Harry said, giving her a smile.

She chuckled, "I am sure he won't go that far." She moved a few things in the room, presumably for him to get around easier. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night Rowena."

She paused for a moment before giving him a hug. Surprised, Harry was glad his instincts reacted faster than his thoughts, since he returned the hug quickly.

He was always awkward when people were that way. He hadn't really ever been hugged before Hogwarts and it still took getting used to. But he was getting better at it, obviously, and that made him a bit happy.

Harry listened as she left. When he heard no more, he found his way to his bed and he went to sleep.

When he woke up, the smell of pine that was usually around Salazar was in the air. "Good morning Salazar," Harry said quietly. "I'm sorry-"

"You needn't apologize," Salazar replied. "I... Rowena spoke with me. You were right. I forgot myself in my anger. I'm sorry that it seemed bad enough to make you step in." He was silent for a few moments and Harry didn't know what to say. "Godric... suspects you may not be from... here. From... from our time even."

Harry thought for a few moments. Nothing he knew or had heard theorized about time travel had come anywhere remotely close to this problem he was in. He sighed, unsure about what to do.

"We... cannot claim we understand your predicament," Salazar said quietly. He sighed. "A seer once said to me that we all have to learn our own way. Make our own passage."

"Really?" Harry wondered what that had to do with him. "That was... nice...?"

"Perhaps. But then she said that I always was and always would be one for the difficult path There is the road

traveled, the road less so, and the cliff... and apparently I head for the cliff every single time." The man chuckled and Harry couldn't help but smile. "I don't want you to have that problem. Do what you think is right. The rest should come naturally."

Harry sighed and shrugged, "I guess when you put it that way..." he took a deep breath, "When you put it that way, then the best thing for me is to tell you that Godric's suspicions are right. I'm... It's a long time away, when I'm from."

He really wished he had stayed awake in Binn's classes now. Hermione probably would know _exactly_ what year she was in _and_ probably even the language! He knew Hogwarts had been made nearly a millennium ago, but that wasn't exactly _specific._

They had irritated him this summer, Ron and Hermione, by not telling him anything, but Harry wished so desperately for one of them to be with him. Hermione would probably know much more than he did, of course. Ron might not know the language or time or anything, but he'd be here, it wouldn't make Harry feel so... so alone.

He could hear people scoffing at him. Probably Malfoy would claim something stupid about the golden trio and Snape saying that was why he had no brains, too reliant on others...

Yet Harry could also hear Ron's horrified demand of if he had lost his mind since he was considering trusting Salazar _Slytherin_. But Harry could talk easily to Salazar, he didn't have to think and second-guess and be worried...

Why not trust him with that little bit, at least, so that he wouldn't be suspicious when normal things were around and Harry didn't know them?

A sharp intake of breath from Salazar when he realized what Harry had basically just said.

Had Harry been wrong?

"Dear me. But... so far, and yet... yet you know of the school we are making." If it were possible for Harry to hear a smile, he knew he would be hearing it now. "That means it has survived?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed.

"That's amazing," Salazar said, and Harry could hear the surprise and relief in his voice. "We were so worried... that doesn't matter. Let us go get breakfast, we must make sure that the legacy you remember is sure to exist! Will you need assistance?"

"I-"

"I shall leave Melusine here. If you need assistance, she shall find me." Harry could hear him stand and walk to the door and leave.

Harry sighed. He had just said he was from the future. He probably had changed things horribly. Why hadn't someone come to get him yet!

It was just like his entire summer had been, with no news or anything. He had been in this time for two months! _TWO MONTHS!_ He had been recovering and learning a language and still no one had come back for him!

Did anyone care about him at all? Was he just useful for his celebrity status?

No, Sirius cared... and his friends did, Harry knew they did.

He just wished he wasn't so confused right now.

"What is wrong?" Melusine asked. "Are you not hungry?"

"I..." Harry wondered if he should feel stupid for wanting to tell a snake about his problems. Then he decided it was not because in his situation, who wouldn't want someone to talk to? He told her about his summer, about waking up here, about his worries regarding his vision, his friends, his godfather... everything, finishing with, "I don't know what to do and I don't know if anyone cares about me or even realizes I'm gone!"

The snake didn't speak for a few moments, before saying, "I don't understand, human. If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there. Just keep walking. If you do what you feel is right, it shall sort itself out. And we would miss you. Now hurry, breakfast is still waiting."

Harry felt a bit embarrassed. In his longing for home... he had forgotten there were people here too. Had he been so rude in this time? Only caring about wanting to get home...

How would he have felt if someone from the future had done that to him? He would have been trying to help them, yes, but he'd have felt a bit put off, he was sure. Possibly even a bit irritated because they weren't grateful and he had other issues...

Harry felt ashamed of himself and hurried to get breakfast. Melusine was right. He _didn't_ know where he was going, what he was going to do. But didn't that just mean he had everything before him?

He wouldn't give up hope of returning back to his time some day, but right now he was here, with people that were legends. He would make the best of it and appreciate it.

And right now, he'd appreciate some breakfast. Harry quickly got ready and left.


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

Many people have always felt that is a paradox of a question, but a young man's sheer force of will was that unstoppable force.

How so?

Because Harry James Potter was determined. And due to this fact, he had thrown himself into learning the strange 'ye olde English' language.

He also resolved that, sight or no sight, he would _not_ be a burden. After all, hadn't he saved the Philosopher's Stone in his first year? Hadn't he faced Voldemort three times before? Hadn't he gotten through that horrible tournament and faced dementors? Yes, much of that had been luck and he had had help, but still, he had overcome all of that.

And that was what he was going to do again: he was going to overcome these new obstacles life had given him. He had lived against the odds before and survived. He would do so again.

Of course, this was easier said than done.

He was also determined to help Rowena with finding a way to fix his sight. Harry did not think it was fair to just wait for her to help him without at least trying. For now, he had taken to walking with Melusine and a cloth that was usually slightly dampened with pain relief potions.

Harry had deduced what must have happened when he traveled. His glasses had broken and shattered and that was why his eyes were so bad now. So really, the cloth he wore around his eyes served two purposes; it hid his scars from others and helped them not hurt as badly. It was also why Harry had taken to wearing a hooded cloak more, even indoors, to hide the fact that he wore something to cover his eyes. It was easier than answering questions regarding his current condition.

But he had hope that it could be fixed.

Needless to say, it was rather difficult and very time consuming. Harry had been astonished when he had realized they were in the middle of November already.

It was sad, in a way. No matter what time it was, Hogwarts really _was_ his home, far more than Privet Drive ever had been or ever would be.

Harry, Melusine and Rowena were inside of her study, and the wind was loud outside. Harry had a strange goop over his eyes and was reclining so that it wouldn't fall off. The cloak and cloth he had taken to wearing were both lying next to him, as was Melusine, who was sleeping and snoring.

It was an interesting sound, a snake snoring.

He knew Rowena was looking outside, but he hadn't been out yet. Harry didn't know if snow had started or if the leaves were still changing color...

Strange. He had never really appreciated those things when he could see. Now though... now he longed to see them and couldn't.

Harry made a face at his thought.

"Harry? Does the balm feel strange?" Rowena asked immediately.

"Hm? Oh no, it's not that," Harry answered. "I was just thinking. How does it look outside?"

He would never admit it aloud, but he loved it when Rowena described things. It wasn't even the fact that she was good at it, he just liked hearing her _voice_, loved the lilt of it...

The thoughts he had about her made him embarrassed and concerned. He wasn't exactly stupid. Harry was sure he had a bit of a crush on her.

Well... fine, more than just a bit.

Cho Chang had been a crush, how she had made him excited and nervous when he had seen her.

Rowena made him just feel _good_ when she was around. Harry wanted to be closer to her, to know her better, to...

Stopping those thoughts would be good.

He shouldn't be too surprised, he supposed. Rowena was the closest in age to him, only seventeen. Salazar was the oldest of them, Harry had learned, and even he wasn't much older than Harry. He was only twenty. Helga and Godric were both nineteen and then there was Rowena and himself.

They had known each other for years, Harry had learned, their families having associated with each other for various reasons. Though Helga was married to someone that was never there, hence her being a member of the Hufflepuff family. But her husband had given his approval for her to work on the school, though Harry wondered what he was like since they had never met...

Harry focused on Rowena once more, since she was speaking now.

"It's a very crisp, clear day. The sky is blue, a beautiful clear blue, and the leaves are all the different colors of autumn, orange and red and yellow, almost like a light flame. The wind is swirling the leaves and some of them are fluttering into the lake. The forest's trees seem to be swaying a bit due to the wind, but it looks very peaceful and beautiful."

He could imagine the sight of the crisp autumn day. Though it was funny... days like that last year, to him anyway, had been ignored due to worrying about the Triwizard Tournament. He had spent most of his time in the library with Hermione, wishing that people would believe that he hadn't put in his name and worrying about surviving a dragon.

"Would you like to take a walk around the lake when we're finished?" Harry asked without thinking. He wanted to beat himself. Why would Rowena want to waste even _more_ time with him? Wasn't she doing enough for his vision? Idiot!

She hesitated for a few seconds before saying quietly, "I-"

"!"

The dulcet tones of Godric's screams reached them and Harry could hear his pounding feet, the clattering of his sword and the slamming open of a door.

Their door.

"Godric?" Rowena asked. "What happened?"

"Ummmm..."

Oh dear. Just from the tone Harry knew this wouldn't be good.

"Well, you know the old legends, yes, about unicorns?"

"There are a lot of legends about unicorns..." Harry said thoughtfully.

"Well, I had a saddle..."

"You _didn't._" Both Harry and Rowena said this.

"And I thought that white was such a drab and boring color, so-"

An odd sound and Godric whimpered.

"It followed you inside?"

"SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Oh for the love of-"

"Harry, what _is_ that on your eyes?"

"_What is going on?_"

Great. Melusine had woken up now.

"AH! GET OFF ME!"

"_Hungry!"_

"That's mine!"

"Will you give her your-why are you carrying raw steak anyway?"

"I... I thought it might tame the unicorn... but it gored the other steak on its horn and seemed angrier..."

"Okay, stop," Harry said, raising his voice a bit. "Godric, am I correct in think that you tried to saddle a unicorn, change its color and give it some steak?"

Silence for a few seconds before a sheepish Godric muttered, "Yes..."

"And now the unicorn is upset."

"Yes..."

"And is chasing you."

"... Yes..."

Harry rubbed his forehead and Rowena sighed. "Godric, why do you persist in these experiments? Especially with a creature as powerful magically as a unicorn?"

"I do them because someone must! It will increase the knowledge of humanity!"

"WHY IS THERE A UNICORN THAT'S GREEN WITH PINK DOTS ALL OVER IT IN OUR SCHOOL!" Salazar's voice roared.

A loud ninny that reminded Harry of a horse.

"GODRIC!"

"Oh no! Sal!"

The door slammed open, "Godric what were you-!"

"AH!"

Another loud ninny and hooves, and confusion. Harry stood and tried moving and dodging and jumping due to the sounds. He grabbed a hold of a stick or something and pulled himself up to sit. It was the strangest seat he had ever been on. It practically seemed to move... Harry grappled around for a bit before he realized.

He was holding onto a mane.

Of hair.

He was on a saddle.

_Oh no!_

"Harry!" Rowena yelped, sounding panicked.

"Oh good, Harry's done it! See, you can ride a unicorn!" Godric's voice said, but Harry couldn't really reply. He was busy clinging to said unicorn for dear life. "How does it ride, Harry? Like a fine steed?"

"SAVE ME!" Harry yelped. It was worse than when he had ridden Buckbeak! He was pretty sure the unicorn was going down the steps now due to the uneven ground, but Harry didn't dare let go to drop and find out. He could hear spells being shouted, but he couldn't make out what they were due to the noise of the unicorn's galloping and loud neighing.

If this was what riding a horse felt like... Harry could not _wait_ for broomsticks.

"Just hold tight," he told himself, forcing himself to do just that.

How long they galloped, Harry had no idea. Where they were going he didn't know either, though wherever it was had a lot of trees whose branches were hitting Harry in the face. If the wind was due to the autumn day or the unicorn's running, Harry wasn't sure, but he was cold and sore. His legs felt numb but he was scared to let go, even when he felt cold water splashing at him and more branches hitting him.

But Harry could hear the galloping slowing. He felt no branches, only the breeze of the autumn day and the sun shining on them.

"You have won, human. I cannot run any more. What do you desire of me?"

The voice was like the soft tinkle of a bell, reminding Harry of spring and fun times, happier times.

"Who..." Harry wished he could see. He had no idea who was speaking.

A sigh, "The one you ride, human."

"You can _talk?_" Harry was dumbfounded. He thought about his knowledge of unicorns. Various parts of the Unicorn like the horn and tail hair were used in potions and for the cores of wands... and then there was the blood of a unicorn can be used to keep a person who is near death alive, but they'd have a cursed life from the moment the blood touched their lips. But his knowledge had never covered anything about unicorns _speaking_.

"Yes, human, I can speak. It is what happens when we have been... captured." The unicorn sounded irritated and sad at the same time. "You have saddled me and made me yours." Perhaps something occurred to the unicorn because it continued, "I can grant you a wish for my freedom, if you desire. Unlike the djinn, I shall not attempt any trickery. It is only fair for my freedom."

What?

A wish. He could go home... he could gain his eyesight back... he could prevent Voldemort's birth even...

He could do anything...

_But he hadn't saddled the unicorn, had he?_

Harry felt sickened at his selfishness. He hadn't thought about how a creature like this, a powerful magical creature that probably loved to be free had felt to make that offer.

"... I didn't capture you," Harry said, speaking only the truth. "Godric did. It was an accident. I thought I was just pulling myself up. I can't see and you were moving so fast that I was scared to let go."

Silence for a few moments and Harry slowly slid off the unicorn, falling onto what felt like damp grass.

"I would have given you anything," the unicorn said softly. "None would have known."

"I would've," Harry said simply. "I don't know how to return to the school..." He wished he knew where he was, that he could get his bearings, something, anything.

"You are strange for a human." The sounds of hooves over the grass and Harry felt an odd touch to his forehead, something that felt very much like what he suspected the horn of a unicorn felt like. "You have an odd feel, human. You are not from here."

Was it that obvious? "You're right. I'm not."

"Curious. Very curious. You are an interesting being, human. You turn your back on power for honesty. You turn your back on yourself for others. That is rare."

Harry blushed, unsure about what to say to that.

"I ask that you look at me."

"I can't-" Harry began, but it felt strange, as if an odd fire were in his head but something was keeping him from moving. He didn't know what it was, but he couldn't move and it hurt, it really did, but it was as if he didn't really care that it hurt... it was a strange sensation, but the unicorn's eyes seemed caring and so...

Wait.

The unicorn's eyes? Harry's eyes widened and he pulled away, looking around in astonishment. "Oh my..." He touched his eyes, rubbed them with the palms of his hands and looked around.

It was a glorious autumn day, the leaves changing colors and the sun was... he didn't know if it was rising or setting, but it was the most beautiful thing he had seen in his life.

The sky was so brilliantly clear that when he looked into the blue it didn't seem to have a limit, didn't seem to end. The sun was below the tree line but there was still light and the sky was rapidly turning a deep cobalt blue and he could see a single bright star—or was it a planet? He wondered why he hadn't paid more attention in Astronomy.

Suddenly a spear of golden light shot from the sun and seemed to pierce the star. Like an arrow of gold light, one brilliant shaft there and gone, and he watched, transfixed.

It was so beautiful it took his breath away.

He turned to the unicorn. It seemed majestic, without any trace of any other color but white. Perhaps whatever Godric had done had faded. The saddle on its back seemed to diminish its beauty and Harry worked to get rid of it. Soon, he was holding the saddle and the unicorn bowed its head to him.

"Thank you, human," it said softly.

"Thank _you_," Harry said, still marvelling that he could _see._

"Your structure is there," the unicorn said, indicating the trees, towards the... ah... it was a rising sun, Harry realized. He watched the unicorn run off, and realized that though he might not know a lot of things, at least he knew how it felt to set a unicorn free.

It was an amazing feeling.

Harry knew he was in for a long walk back to Hogwarts, but he didn't really mind as much. He turned towards the rising sun and began to walk, marvelling at every leaf, at every tree and stone. He could _see_ them, really see them, without any glasses or anything!

As he walked through the forest in the sunlight, he noticed that things he had never noticed before seemed visible to him. The birds in the trees, the animals running, the breeze blowing the leaves... it was just beautiful.

He would be able to see the others, for the first time.

He would be able to _see_ Rowena. And though a pang went through at the thought of a unicorn doing so easily what they could not, perhaps she would still be willing to research for others that needed help.

Was he changing history?

He thought for a moment before remembering that Moody had had a magical eye that could see. So regardless, he wouldn't be messing up things _too _much, Harry was sure.

It was a long walk, and Harry felt a bit hungry after a time. He wondered how fast that unicorn had been running. Part of him wanted to hurry, but logically he knew that would be pointless. All it would do was make him tired faster.

He paused by a small creek to drink some water and, after filling up on that, continued walking... and walking...

And walking some more.


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep," Harry murmured in a sing-song voice as he walked. He didn't remember where he had heard the line, but it seemed to fit. And yet, despite the fact he was tired and cold, he loved being able to see everything.

He had walked long enough so that the day had turned into night and he was using lumos to feebly light his way.

The birds flickering around overhead, the leaves blowing in the wind, the monkey-like man who reminded Harry of something stumbling through the woods rather loudly...

Wait. _Wait__!_

That man reminded Harry of the statue in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Salazar?" He called.

The wizard turned immediately, looking exhausted before his eyes widened. "Harry?"

"Sal!" Harry ran to him, grabbed a handful of his shirt to pull him back and shake him, to confirm that yes, this was real, and finally, growling as loudly as any wolf, he wrapped an arm around Salazar's neck and squeezed until his face began to turn vaguely purple.

This action was also known as a hug and was just as fiercely returned.

"You're alive," Salazar looked and sounded relieved.

"You look horrible," Harry said, realizing that yes, Salazar did. He had bags under his eyes and looked as if he could eat a good meal and sleep for days.

"We were looking for you for some ti-" Salazar stopped and stared at Harry, his dark gray eyes wide with disbelief. He grabbed Harry again and stared at him. "Oh my... Oh my... You..."

"I can see," Harry said softly, unable to help himself from smiling.

Another tight hug and the demand of, "How? How is this possible?"

"Magic?" Harry asked, grinning.

He earned a light swat to the back of the head. "Impudent brat," Salazar said, chuckling.

"Jeez, try to be honest and get a swat," Harry mock-complained, unable to help himself from smiling. In a more serious tone, he added, "The unicorn, it did it to repay me. It offered me a wish, but I told it the truth, that Godric caught it, not me. It was generous enough to restore my eyesight for being honest."

"That is excellent news," Salazar said, looking pleased before he remembered something. "Oh dear. Let me..." He lifted his wand and shot up silver sparks that reminded Harry almost of a waterfall... but not made of water and going up instead of down. "The others will see that and know I have found you. Now let us return to Hogwarts and see if Godric was allowed to keep all of his limbs..."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, "That bad?"

"I care for him dearly, he is my best friend, but he really must learn some common sense," Salazar said, sighing. "You seem cold, hold on..." He murmured something, but Harry soon felt delightfully warm, as if he were standing in a sunbeam.

"Warming charm?" Harry inquired.

Salazar nodded and the two began to walk, "As I was saying, I care for him dearly but... first the experiment that brought you here, then my books, and the bit with the unicorn... truthfully, I was worried for his life. I have never seen Rowena so furious."

Harry knew he was blushing, but couldn't help it. Rowena was upset on his behalf, cared about him. "That's... well, is everything okay?"

"Do you know how long you were gone for?" Salazar asked, giving Harry a look of concern.

"A few hours?" Harry asked, looking back at him, confused.

Salazar shook his head. "Today is the first day of December, Harry," the man said quietly. "You have been taken for two weeks."

"It was only a few hours!" Harry said, stunned. "I really didn't-I didn't even need rest or food or anything until I began walking back! We were still in the forest!"

"Unicorns _are_ magical creatures," Salazar said. "Perhaps time acts differently when they are frightened or running..."

Two weeks. No wonder everyone was worried. Harry shook his head and they continued to walk silently. Soon enough, Harry could see the partially complete school, the only structure in the area, in the distance. It was _tiny_ compared to the grand castle he knew it as. It felt a bit strange-it was Harry's past but it hadn't happened yet.

Talk about a mindwarp. Harry made a mental decision to try not to think about that too much because he had a feeling it would give him a headache.

"Sal? HARRY!" Helga's voice rang out and Harry's first thought, upon actually _seeing_ her, was _'__Is__she__related__to__Ron__?'_ Helga had Weasley red hair and bright blue eyes and she had just enveloped him in a huge hug that reminded Harry so much of Mrs. Weasley that he couldn't even return it, that's how hard Helga was squeezing him. "Oh Harry, you're all right!"

"Yeah," Harry managed. "I'm all-ah!" He was interrupted by another bonecrushing hug from Helga. "Can't... breathe..." he managed to get out.

"Oh!" Helga released him and hugged Salazar, "You found him!"

"Sheer dumb luck, I assure you," Salazar said, looking amused. "Really, I should say he found me."

Helga laughed and shook her head.

"You look tired too," Harry said, looking over her. "Didn't all of you take care of yourselves before hunting for me?"

"We couldn't just let you..." Helga stared at Harry in awe. "Oh HARRY!"

_Oh__ no__! __Another__ hug__!_

Harry couldn't have escaped it if he had even tried (which he didn't) and the woman said, "YOU CAN SEE!"

"Gaaaaaaaaaaaaak..." Harry tried to agree but he couldn't really breathe or anything due to the strength of Helga's hugs. Right, looks like a Weasley, hugs like a Hagrid... good knowledge for the future...

A man that seemed as if he could be Helga's brother ran out from the castle and tackled Harry. Due to the sword, Harry knew this had to be Godric, but... it was strange.

He had the same bright emerald green eyes as Harry. And the red hair...

No. His mother was a Muggleborn and his aunt Petunia didn't have the features at all. They were centuries apart. It was just a coincidence but it was so surreal that all Harry could do for a moment was stare at the man. The older wizard was paler than most people, but it was disturbing that Harry could claim he was related to Godric due to just the eyes and magic, which was more than he shared with the Dursleys...

The man's stature reminded Harry of a small Hagrid... but with green eyes and red hair. And a sword.

"I'm sorry lad," Godric said, shaking his head. "It seems all I have done is hurt you." He looked so sad and forlorn that Harry couldn't help but clasp his shoulder.

"Your mishap this time allowed for my vision to return," Harry said quietly, making the older wizard stare at him in surprise. "I think the pain you suffered and this more than makes up for what happened. And I'm home now. All is well."

Salazar grumbled something but Helga shushed him as Harry's eyes caught the last of the Founders striding towards them.

Rowena Ravenclaw was more than beautiful. Harry didn't know how to explain it, but she was elegant and lovely, with dark hair and eyes and pale, much like Godric. She had a simple light blue gown on, but it seemed to fit her perfectly, giving even the simple look an almost regal appearance, especially with the moonlight shining on them all. Beautiful, intelligent and, truth be told, a bit intimidating, but still lovely.

Harry walked to her and kissed her hand, making her chuckle. "I'm home," Harry said quietly, knowing it was redundant but unable to help himself.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm, "So I see, no thanks to Godric." She looked over at the other wizard who whimpered.

"It's the past," Harry said, touched. The greatest dueler of this time was petrified of the woman standing in front of Harry. Though she _was_ the most brilliant witch of her time, so maybe he had a valid reason to be afraid...

"That does not excuse idiocy," Rowena answered. "The unicorn... it healed you." She touched Harry's temple lightly, next to his eyes.

Harry just nodded and the witch smiled.

"Let us go inside," she said, looking around. She gave Godric a brief glare.

"Come on," Harry said, shaking his head. "Godric's learned his lesson, I hope."

"Yes!" Godric volunteered quickly.

"And now I can hopefully assist a bit more," Harry said, looking around at the tiny little structure. They walked inside, discussing what they would build and how it would be done.

Harry learned that Hogwarts wasn't just a castle structured from magic. They actually had people and other beings called in to help. Dwarfs were helping them lay the foundation and even a few Squibs and Centaurs were lending a hand too, not to mention Goblins and the Merpeople, making sure that the pipes all worked fine and didn't let out somewhere that would be detrimental to any species.

Every stone that was being set in Hogwarts was etched with runes, making Harry wish he had taken the subject. The Squibs and Centaurs that were helping were etching runes, shaping stones, and learning about the surrounding area while doing all of this. It really was a surprise that so many were involved in this.

But the bulk of the work was definitely on the four... well, now it was five... wizards and witches. They had to activate the runes, had to set up wards-which Harry had never done before, so he had to be taught that. At least they didn't have to keep dusting and keeping the work area clean, thanks to the house elves. Harry wondered what Hermione would have said to the fact that the Hogwarts elves had begged to work there and were treated better than any other house elves. The conditions had been set by Helga and he had given a few ideas as well.

It felt weird, working this hard with his hands and relying less on magic than he had thought. Only for the wards, runes and smaller things. And in the cold, learning warming charms had become a necessity, especially now that Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid-a fact the Merpeople were probably celebrating. It gave _them_ a few days of quiet at least.

No one could wait for the holidays to start so that they would have a break and escape Godric who was driving them all insane with decorating. Even now, as Harry was walking with Salazar, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Godric was behind it.

"... I wonder sometimes, Godric," Salazar said, amused. "Do you forget you're a wizard?"

The red-haired man poked his head through the branches, his mouth open to retort before he blinked. "Er..." He looked at his wand, at the tree, and at Salazar and Harry.

"... Not a word!" He said, causing them to laugh as he levitated the tree into the Great Hall. It was strange, in Harry's mind, how the times all seemed to collide on certain occasions. Even now, with the school not complete or anything, the hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

They helped decorate a little more before Harry left to his room. He looked over the wrapped gifts, hoping the others would like them, though Harry had learned a fair bit with making the gifts.

Godric's gift was a set of throwing knives that Harry had helped the goblins to make, which had been inspired from the fact that Godric had helped make his sword. He had been astonished to learn that the goblins gave part of themselves whenever they made an object, which was why goblin-made items were so good. Harry had been learning their methods and understood now why they always wanted the objects back. Technically, part of their family member's soul was in that object, so of course they'd want it back. But objects were meant to be used, hence the ritual of requesting it for another generation. The goblins weren't cheats, if you acknowledged returning the object and requesting it par the original agreement for this generation as well, you weren't charged again. It was why most people made sure their agreements specified themselves and their descendants, to ensure there would be no problems since everyone knew the rituals.

The throwing knives were based off a set Harry had once seen in a book. He had etched them with Godric's name and coat of arms. They were simple looking knives but well balanced and sturdy.

For Helga, Harry had made what he dubbed a "miniature greenhouse," which was the size of perhaps two shoeboxes and made of metal and glass. Within he had a few pots of small herbs already growing. There were runes activated and the like to help the plants grow and to help the small box resist being broken. He had also etched her name and coat of arms to it.

Salazar had been a bit harder, but Harry had gotten some more help but he was a bit proud of how it turned out. Harry had managed, with the assistance of Helga and Godric, find and shrink a portrait of Salazar's family and of the five of them. Harry had then made a locket, a large, oval locket of heavy gold with a serpentine 'S' in green jewels, for his friend, and enchanted it, since he knew Salazar was rather private about personal things. There were only two Parselmouths in Hogwarts, himself and Salazar, so the only way to open the locket was by saying 'Open' to it in Parseltongue. Harry thought that bit was a tad ingenious and it had been hard to do, so he was proud of it.

The hardest one to get a gift for had been Rowena, but that hadn't been too much of a surprise for Harry. He had thought long and hard about what to get her. He had spent enough time with the others to know that Rowena preferred practical objects.

So Harry had learned how to make paper and, after much practice, had learned how to bookbind. He had made Rowena a journal, a nice thick one, for her thoughts. The front of it was, like the others' gifts had been, etched with her name and coat of arms. He had also made huge paper since she kept complaining that the parchment she was trying to use to design the school was too small. The paper now was rolled up but it reminded Harry a bit of poster boards he had seen in his Muggle primary school. He had then gotten all kinds of inks and quills for her.

He had also gotten Melusine some huge mice and nice rocks etched with things to keep them warm. She had been whining about how winter wrecked havoc on her scales and how any snake with common sense would be in brumation right now, but no, she lived with wizards...

So Harry decided to help her a bit.

The others had been easy, group gifts for them. Harry stretched and, as usual for evenings, went to the Great Hall for supper and chess with Salazar. They played every night and Salazar usually won but Harry was getting better. And then, on Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day since the house elves had been anticipating cooking for Christmas for weeks.

When he woke early in the morning, the first thing he saw was a pile of presents at the foot of his bed. He blinked, looking at what Salazar had given him before unwrapping it. He began to laugh, rolling his eyes.

A silver pocket-watch, with a snake with emeralds for eyes on the outside... but when Harry opened it, there was a unicorn etched on the inside cover. He rolled his eyes; ever since then, Salazar had been teasing him about learning how to tell time. Harry knew he couldn't wear the watch around Muggles; they didn't have watches just yet, still using the sun and sundials. But the wizards were actually a bit advanced now, and preferred watches.

It made Harry what had happened in the time he was from. Chuckling, he turned to the next present, which was from Godric. He opened it up and tilted his head before admiring it. Weapons... a long rapier, not a common weapon. Harry knew that much from the few times he had mentioned fencing to Godric. He kept stating, "Broadsword style fighting, you mean?"

But the man had tried his best and Harry could see the work that had gone into the rapier. It felt light and just... _right_, better than even Godric's sword the few times he had handled it. This was meant for Harry's slender form and he knew it. The other weapon made him smile... a longbow and arrows. So Godric had caught him practicing with the Centaurs and decided to help him a bit. Harry admired the workmanship of the weapons. Gorgeous, utterly so.

The next gift was from Helga. Harry blushed as he saw a few outfits-ones like Godric wore, obviously meant for when Harry went to the woods... and a nice hooded cloak, a nice dark green one. He still wore his cloak even though he could see. He was more comfortable being unnoticed, something Harry figured must have lingered since he had always hated attention. But someone had commented before he seemed to wear the same things. Helga must have overheard them. She was so generous that it really did surprise Harry sometimes. He didn't know why it still did, but that was life.

He opened the gifts from others-some various drinks and food stuffs he would enjoy, a nice pair of goggles from the goblins due to the various work he did with them, and soft, comfortable leather boots from the Centaurs. Harry smiled at the fact that beings with hooves had gotten him shoes.

Finally he turned to Rowena's present. He opened it and slowly smiled. It seemed to be an art set. She had commented once that he seemed good with crafts and he had mentioned he had sketched a bit at home. Harry had the urge to begin using it immediately, but knew that would have to wait.

He paused, noticing something odd-a strange rock that resembled chicken egg with black speckles was. Was this a present too? It felt oddly warm...

Perhaps it was a paperweight? It didn't have a card or anything. Shrugging, Harry placed it with the other presents and left his room to wish the others a Happy Christmas and thank them.


End file.
